Page 85 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
I took a sip of my own. It was some sort of seafood dish. It tasted kind of like this chowder they served down the street from my old apartment. Damn, that had been some good gumbo. This one was smooth, like one of Bailey’s baby food purees, and had sprigs of green, but it was basically the same. I tried to entice Bailey with the fruit I’d brought her, but she squirmed for the soup. I brought the spoon to her lips.
She took a sip. Then another. Then—pffft—she spit it out.
“Yucky,” she said.
My face burned. I turned to face Rose, an apology on my lips, but she was biting her lips against a smile.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Honestly.”
“I’m sorry,” I said anyway. “I really like it.”
I looked around and noticed Colin looking down and Shelly covering her mouth. Okay, amusement would be had at my expense tonight. I chanced a glance at Philip, but even his expression seemed to have softened under Bailey’s spell.
Until he spoke. “Allie,” he said. “I heard you’re working in Colin’s restaurant.”
I glanced at Colin. I could tell from the way his eyes had clouded over that he’d caught the edge to Philip’s tone, but I wasn’t sure what he thought about it. Colin didn’t meet my eyes.
“Not working there, exactly,” I said. “Just sending over a couple of cakes or pies every few days.”
“I see.” Philip’s tone said he found that doubtful, though I didn’t see why.
“I like to bake, so it’s just a little extra. And you know, or maybe you don’t, but I did that before.” I caught Shelly’s eye as she sipped from her spoon, and that bolstered me some. I took a deep breath.
Philip took a drink and over the rim said, “Mmm-hmm.” He set the glass down with a thud. “I imagine you’re very busy”—he nodded toward Bailey—“taking care of your daughter.”
“Oh, sure,” I said. “We stay busy. I mean, not too busy, but we get along fine, between that, and…the baking.”
Jesus, why couldn’t I shut up? It was like watching a train wreck, but I was on the train.
Philip looked at me expectantly. Hadn’t I answered the question? What was the fucking question?
Maybe this was about Colin taking time off. Did Philip think he’d had to do that to watch Bailey for me? “I mean, I take care of her, if that’s what you mean. Colin doesn’t have to—”
“That’s enough,” Colin said sharply.
I looked down at my soup, feeling ridiculous but relieved. Philip said nothing.
A few minutes later our soup bowls were taken away and replaced with a plate of…what? I poked it with my fork. Round fish pieces. Ah, scallops. And even a corn mixture. I picked out the greens and fed them to Bailey.
Rose broke the silence. “The company’s going to New York next month.”
“Oh,” said Colin. “For how long?”
“Just a week,” she said.
Nothing, then Shelly said, “How exciting. Have you been?”
“Oh, yeah,” Rose said. “I love it there.”
She paused. We all did.
“The nightlife,” she added, “the shopping…” Then she trailed off.
Belatedly Shelly said, “Ah.”
We all ate.
I’d expected as much from myself
